Nobody's Fault
by airmac
Summary: Missing scene from ep. "Nobody's Fault".


_A/N: I want to thank Trinitas very much for editing this story and making it much better!_

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><p>Foreman fiddled nervously with his cell phone.<p>

Obviously, this was a bad idea. He knew it wasn't the right thing to do; no one had asked for it. And if everything turned out all right, he'd have to deal with an angry Chase - an unpleasant prospect, considering how the Australian could hold a grudge for months, seething under apparent calm. Foreman would rather be punched than deal with that.

Still, he couldn't help himself. The wreck of the patient room floated before his eyes. He hadn't been there, but he could imagine the bloodied body of his friend - yes, he would call Chase his friend, and actually his best one. Foreman chuckled over the irony: if, a few years ago, anyone had told him that he would call this pompous, spoiled rich guy a friend, he would have laughed in that person's face.

Foreman looked at his phone. And if it all went wrong - if Chase died or remained disabled - Foreman would regret for the rest of his life that he hadn't mustered the courage to call this number.

It should have been Chase's decision whom he wanted to involve in the mess he got himself into and whom he didn't, but Cameron had the right to know what had happened to her ex. Knowing Cameron, she'd be back in hours, caring full-force, ready to dedicate herself to Chase's recovery. Did Chase want that? But on the other hand, he needed someone to take care of him, and who else did he have?

Two years ago, he'd been jealous of Chase, who had everything: a job he liked, a woman he loved. Foreman had always known that working for House couldn't end well. A long time ago, he'd wanted to leave, afraid for his soul. He'd never thought of the possibility of physical damage.

Why had he returned Chase and Cameron to the team? If he hadn't doubted his own judgment, he would never have needed them to confirm it for him. His insecurity was responsible for what had happened. It was because of him now Chase is lying alone in ICU.

He sighed deeply, opened the phone and turned it on, dialing Cameron's number. There were several beeps; then Cameron's recorded voice invited him to leave a message. Foreman had tried to find the right words, but now that he was on the phone, they seemed very empty. "Cameron, hello; this is Foreman. Something happened to Chase. Call when you can."

He took a deep breath: he'd done his job. Now it was out of his hands.

000

It didn't take long for Cameron to call back.

"Foreman, hi!" She sounded rather excited to hear from her old friend. "What happened?"

It seemed strange to Foreman that she was more excited than worried, and he decided not to try to soften the news. "A patient stabbed Chase with a scalpel; lacerated his left ventricle. Surgery to repair it was successful, but a blood clot occluded his radicular artery and caused paraplegia. L5. We removed the clot, but we don't know the extent of the damage."

Cameron was silent, but her breathing was becoming more rapid. "When did it happen?" Now she sounded worried; maybe her eyes were filled with tears.

"Yesterday."

Again there was silence. What could she say? She was thousands of miles away. Why had Foreman called her?

"How is he?"

"He's in the ICU. Stable." Then, realizing that maybe she wasn't asking about Chase's physical health, he added, "He's afraid that he may never walk again."

Chase hadn't told him, but when Foreman had come to visit him, it'd been written in his eyes. Hell, Foreman would've thought the same thing if this had happened to him.

"Why did you call me?"

Cameron's cold tone took him by surprise. He even moved the phone from his ear, checking the display: was he still talking with Cameron, or had someone else intruded on their conversation? No, it was definitely Cameron; he replaced the phone. "I thought that you might want to know what happened."

"Why? I highly doubt Chase asked you to call me." Cameron could not hide the anger and frustration in her voice.

Foreman was at a loss. Even if she hadn't been Chase's ex-wife, just considering how much time they'd worked together, she should have been told. Should have cared. At last, he said, "Okay. If you don't care, then I'm sorry to bother you."

"Foreman, I'm a bit busy, I'm sorry." Her voice broke just a bit, but before hanging up, she added, "Thank you for calling."

Foreman stood still, holding the phone to his ear and hoping to hear something else. It was strange; he'd expected a completely different reaction. This was _Cameron_—defender of all who suffered!

Obviously, all except Chase.

At least he didn't need to worry about his friend's wrath, because she was unlikely to come to save him. Disturbed, Foreman got up and went to the ICU: he had to visit Chase, because now he knew that no one else would.

He turned the corner and was only a few yards away from the room when he raised his head and saw a familiar figure.

He hadn't expected to see House there and stopped in his tracks, taking a few steps back so diagnostician wouldn't notice him. From that position, Foreman could observe the tension in House's shoulders, and how heavily he leaned on his cane.

Why didn't he want people to know that he cared? Why did he have to behave like a complete jerk?

Foreman turned slowly and headed back to his office, sitting down behind his desk and letting his head fall to his hands. Tomorrow their fate would be decided, and he'd learn whether pulling House from prison had been a mistake.

000

Evening was approaching in Chicago, but the sun still lingered behind the skyscrapers, illuminating roofs with cold rays.

One of these was the roof of a hospital, where the noise of the emergency ward drowned loud sobs coming from the office of the head of the department. Cameron couldn't have cared if she were heard: she sat at her desk, unable to stop the tears that ran down her face and onto a stack of patient folders.

Her imagination was cruel: she could see Chase limping, like House, through the corridors of Princeton Plainsboro.

But she wasn't crying out of compassion for her former husband. And that's why she was scared.

Right now, she should been arranging plane or train tickets, doing whatever it took to get back to New Jersey and be with him. Instead, she sat and cried, realizing that she had never loved him, and had been cruel to convince him otherwise.


End file.
